The Ugly Truth

So...I'm going to pretend that I've been keeping up with the blog, and that you already know all the fascinating aspects of my life over the past weeks months.

I do have a reason for my laziness. And I have a place to lay the blame. It's all my agent's fault. The lovely/amazing Tina Wexler. "Just check out gofugyourself.com and that should help with the research you're doing." Ummm...yes...it did help. Tremendously. And now I can't break myself away from it's awesomeness. So thank you Tina.

The hubs and I escaped got the opportunity for a rare date night last week, so we ate barbecue and went to see The Ugly Truth. I won't go off on a tangent and talk about the new movie theater we went to and how they sell milkshakes to go along with the popcorn, because the combination of popcorn and milkshakes is heaven sent. I'll instead talk about how surprised I was that the movie actually got a few laughs out of me. I'm not a Katherine Heigl fan, but I found myself not annoyed just because of the pure raunchiness of the film. And because of Gerard Butler.

Has anyone seen the promos for the new Brian Boitano show on Food Network? Yes, you read that right. Olympic figure skater, Brian Boitano, has a new cooking show aptly named What Would Brian Boitano Make? I'll be tuning in for sure, because who doesn't want to know what Brian Boitano would make?

And last...I have a confession to make.

I spent two days this past week reading the Twilight series. No, I should say, I spent two days this week devouring the Twilight series. Two days, people. Four books. I started reading the first book about a year ago and only made it past the first couple of chapters before I had to shelve it away. But my seven-year-old daughter wanted to watch the movie and read the book, so of course, I had to read it. And I have absolutely no idea what kept me so captivated. I admittedly cringed several times throughout the first book. There should have been a vaguely creepy element to it. He watched her in her bedroom at night without her knowing it and she didn't care. He loved her, but he shouldn't. He was deadly, but he sparkled. WTH? But I kept reading. And after deciding that Twilight was not, in fact, appropriate for a seven-year-old, I picked up the second book in the series. Because I wanted to. I had no excuse. And I have to say that no matter how cringe worthy I found the first book to be, the last three in the series were absolutely outstanding.

So there, I have confessed. And probably I'll be one of those people who will stand in line and sit in a crowded theater to see New Moon. I wonder how many other closet Twilight readers are out there.